


Literary Reference

by huntersandangels



Series: quotes and quotation [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntersandangels/pseuds/huntersandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon is a Literature professor who has two major problems, Andrew's papers are pure porn and Patrick expresses his love for Jonathan through quotes and art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Literary Reference

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by a discussion with ice_hot_13 on tumblr. once again thanks to Sara for her help and encouragement.  
> unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.

Brandon is in his late 20s, he’s fairly good looking, he teaches Literature in a local college, he has a two bedroom apartment and a healthy social life. He has no loans, no debts, no great responsibilities, he gets along with people and he might have a slight temper issue but only if he’s provoked. So, all in all his life isn’t bad. He really wouldn’t complain, except he has two major problems.

The first one is his best friend and fellow colleague Patrick Kane. He teaches art which comes as a surprise to everyone who knows him, but he’s really talented and creative with soft hands, which apparently is an asset if you’re an artist. The problem is that Patrick is, as he puts it, ‘unconditionally and irrevocably in love’ (yes, he was going through a twilight phase when he met him). That alone wouldn’t be an issue, but having to listen to Patrick whine every goddamn day at lunch is getting on Brandon’s nerves. It has been two years and things are getting worse. Brandon wants to tell him to man the fuck up already and tell the guy because he’s getting really pathetic but he knows that yelling at Pat means only him getting all sad-eyes and closed off and Brandon feeling like a jerk. Despite Pat’s insecurities and self-esteem issues Brandon is really tempted to do just that; especially on days like this one.

“My sun and stars” Patrick says with a sigh resting his hand on his chin and ogling at Jonathan (the French professor) as he walks into the room. Yes, he is now going through a Game Of Thrones phase! It took Brandon suffering three long weeks and a threat of telling Jonny for Pat to stop calling him his Khal! Because Brandon has seen the show okay? Mounting and riding are not things he wants to associate with Patrick and Jonathan. He’s traumatised enough!

“For fuck’s sake Pat! I have a terrible headache and I’m trying to grade these damn papers, I’m not in the mood for this today” he hisses as he rubs his forehead a little in a vain attempt to lessen the pain.

“Bad things happen to nosy kids who climb walls and spy Bran” Patrick points his finger on Brandon’s face as he makes a mock-scold.

Brandon pushes the papers in front of him and kicks his chair back a little “Dude, enough with that damn book! Just because you saw him carry it, it doesn’t mean you have to memorise it! He won’t fall in love with you just because you can quote it you know!” he yells

Patrick just widens his eyes in shock and gives him a hurt look before he averts his gaze and stands to leave.

“Look man, I’m sorry” Brandon says catching his arm “It’s this damn paper that got me all worked up, I didn’t mean to take it out on you” 

Patrick eyes him for a second to see if his apology is sincere and he’s probably convinced since his eyes now twinkle and he puts on a mischievous grin “Awww you got another love letter”

“It’s not a love letter” Brandon barks and gives Pat a murderous look “It’s a joke and a highly inappropriate one! No matter how many F’s I give him he just won’t quit”

“The poor kid is trying to get you to notice him, you should be flattered!” Pat teases. Brandon doesn’t know why he is friends with the guy who mocks his pain.

“Oh, I noticed him alright!” he scoffs and Patrick gives him a sly smirk and an eyebrow wink, because yeah, he is that classy! “Not like that, you perv! It’s not funny Pat. He keeps doing this and I don’t know how to handle it! He’s already failing my class, turning him in wouldn’t do any good either. I just don’t know what that little fucker wants!”

“Most likely to get in your pants!” Patrick laughs again because he is a tool “Seriously though, if it messes you up that much, talk to him, just scare him a little. If you keep ignoring it, he will keep doing it. Go all mean wolf on him Bran. That little shit needs to be taken down a notch or two anyway”

“Stop calling me that!” Brandon protests “I swear man that book has damaged you in ways that can’t be fixed!” 

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m so much more intellectual than you!” Pat teases “anyway man, I got to run. Just don’t let the little fucker get to you”

“Yeah, thanks!” Brandon sighs “I’ll catch you later. We’ll go for a beer! might invite Jonny to join us!” teases and winks at Pat.

Patrick looks something between terrified and hopeful and Brandon does his damn finest to not burst into laughter! 

“You’re so mean, Bran” says Patrick drawing the name a little just to be a bigger asshole and walks away.

*

And here’s Brandon’s second problem. Andrew Shaw, a 5’11, 22-year-old, scrawny kid who has made it his goal to drive Brandon insane! 

Brandon is a Literature professor, he expects some of his students to get caught up between the fantasy and reality and think they’re in love with him just because he can quote Shakespeare and talk in metaphors. He’d usually be more sensitive if it were another case but Andrew is not in love with him, Brandon is sure. He’s just playing an ugly, over the top prank that has gone too far. 

He has no other excuse why a guy who is loud, constantly running his mouth and uses his fists more than his built allows, just turns into a quiet, blushing, stuttering mess only when he’s attending Brandon’s class. A sleazy smirk and a suggestive pun is more of his style, Brandon has seen him in action, they walk the same halls and Andrew is not the kind of person who goes unnoticed. But, instead he just writes Brandon these long book-related essays of how they would have been in another era. 

His first was when they were reading a book about the Arthurian legend and Brandon instead of receiving a paper on the Great Albion and its ruler, got a 20-page-story of Brandon being a King and Andrew his loyal knight who fought for justice and his way into the King’s bed! With explicit details of the ways he could service his King! 

Brandon chocked and sputtered and got all flustered (and yes, okay? he got a boner but can you really blame him? half of it was porn! pure porn! of the great variety!) and in the end decided to ignore it and reward Andrew with a big, fat F (no pun intended).

By the –current- 7th paper Brandon has been besides a king, also a soldier, a painter, an angel, a gladiator, a slave-owner, and a Mob boss all the while Andrew is respectively a knight, an enemy, a minion, a servant, a slave and a hitman whose goal in life is to serve Brandon in all ways and forms, usually through violence and sex.  
After every paper Brandon rewards him with the same glorious F which leaves Andrew impassible and Brandon sexually frustrated and seriously pissed off. 

*

Brandon goes through the motion, hands out the papers and explains the next assignment and tries to avoid locking eyes with Andrew all through the period. The bell startles him and he barely registers the way his hand grabs Andrew’s wrist to keep him from going. As soon as he does, he jerks his hand away as if he had been electrocuted. 

He clears his throat and looks at Andrew as sternly as he can “Please, stay back Mr. Shaw. I need a minute with you”. Andrew flashes a little but doesn’t move. Brandon puts as much distance between them as he can and they sit in an awkward silence until the classroom is empty.

“Now Mr. Shaw I think you had your little fun, although I found it anything but amusing, but this has gone too far. It’s time to stop” he says trying hard to sound firm.

Andrew looks at him through his lashes “I… I’m… I don’t… I don’t know what…what you’re talking about”

Brandon’s face goes hard like Andrew’s stutter personally offends him “I’m talking about this!” he raises his voice an octave and waves Andrew’s latest paper in front of him “your little joke, or prank or whatever the hell what you’re doing is.”

“I… it’s… it’s not a joke” Andrew replies looking at Brandon in the eyes for the first time.

“What the hell is it then? ‘Cause it’s not the assignment you had that’s for sure” Brandon feels himself losing patience. The paper burns his hand, the images in it flash before his eyes. 

“I… I tried…I just wanted…I wanted you to know how…how I feel…about you” Andrew mumbles and his face goes pink. 

Brandon scoffs and Andrew clenches his jaw. Apparently he doesn’t like being mocked! Well, guess what! Brandon doesn’t either. In fact he had enough of it!

“And how is it that you think you feel, Mr. Shaw?” Brandon asks and the irony is so sharp it cuts through them like a sword.

“I don’t think. I know!” comes the firm reply and Andrew seems more like himself than ever since he stepped foot in the Literature class. “I’m in love with you” he mutters and it’s so quiet but so definite that Brandon catches it.

“You’re not in love with me” he says harshly

“Yes, I am”

“No, you’re not”

“I am!”

“You’re NOT!”

“DON’T TELL ME HOW I FEEL!” Andrew shouts and his face goes all red from anger

“YOU DON’T LOVE ME! YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME!” Brandon shouts back and they’re gone from being petulant 5 year-olds to screaming at each other’s faces in 0.2 seconds.

Next thing Brandon knows, is that Andrew has his fist in Brandon’s shirt and with every breath just tugs on it harder and harder

“You don’t like mornings, when you wake up late and barely make it to class your hair is still a little damp from the shower! When you have a hangover you drink your coffee black which you don’t like so you cringe with every sip! When you’re in a good mood you hum that stupid call me something song! When you have a headache you rub between your eyes and your forehead ‘cause you think it helps! When you’re thinking or you’re nervous you scratch your beard! When you fight you do it with a smile on your face! And when you look at me it’s like I’m a code you’re trying to decipher. I FUCKING KNOW YOU!” Andrew all but snarls as Brandon’s back hits the wall.

Brandon doesn’t know what to expect next but what he gets is an Andrew pressing himself against him harder and crushing their mouths together. Brandon’s gasp of shock gives Andrew the chance to stick his tongue in his mouth. It’s not really a kiss, it’s teeth and tongue and spit, it’s a struggle for Brandon to get free and Andrew to get closer. He fists Andrew’s hair and tugs, trying to get him away but Andrew lets out a whimpering sound and just…digs into Brandon’s mouth with much more force while yipping and rutting against his leg like… like a mutt! 

Brandon thrusts his pelvis throwing Andrew off balance. He switches their position in one swift move, pinning Andrew to the wall, holding his hands above his head. Andrew pants and heaves, his eyes wild and dark with lust. 

Brandon bolts.

* 

Brandon gets his wish after that. Andrew stays clear of him, moves to the back of the row, avoids eye contact and fidgets in his seat all through class. His next assignment gets him a B-, it’s neat, to the point and very appropriate but shows how little effort Andrew put on it. It lacks the spark and passion his previous work had. Brandon should feel content and relieved. Instead, he feels …dissatisfied, empty; somehow cheated. 

He doesn’t want to dwell on that, or the fact that he can still taste Andrew in his mouth, or how instead of the breeze in his neck he feels Andrew’s breath there. He flouts at the inexplicable feeling of missing someone who is just a few feet away and tries to shut out the voice in his head that tells him he can’t miss something he never had. He ignores how his hands itch to go to that bottom drawer and dig up the copies of the old papers. He chooses to pretend like they don’t even exist, because really, why would they?

He hides in the art room instead and watches as Patrick sketches Jonny as Khal Drogo riding a stallion across the desert and probably whines some more. Brandon isn’t really listening. The “god, you’re such a drama queen” he directs at Patrick is more reflexive than anything. When Patrick comes back with “not a queen, a Khaleesi” Brandon isn’t even annoyed, just defeated.  
The next words that come out of his mouth aren’t even an attempt to be mean “Well, guess what Khaleesi, Drogo dies”

When Patrick looks up from his drawing in horror and disbelief he can’t find it in himself to care. Not even when Patrick leaves the room while tearing his sketch into pieces and bumps into Jonny on the way out, not even when he hears running on the hall and Jonny calling Patrick’s name. And certainly not when Jonny comes back holding the tiny pieces in his hand and gives Brandon the most harsh, judging look before he is too walking away.

*

Brandon turns off his cell, unplugs the landline and spends his entire weekend on his couch, wearing sweatpants and drowning his sorrows and guilt in beer. He tries not to think about his friend. He tries even harder not to think about Andrew and the flutter in his chest when he fails. And as sure as hell tries not to admit to himself what it means exactly that when he closes his eyes the only thing he can see behind them is Andrew’s gaze while he was pinned into that wall.

Monday morning comes sooner than he would have liked, he arrives at work earlier than ever, avoids the cafeteria and just sits in his desk, sipping his coffee. When he switches his mobile on, he has a couple of missed calls from his family, one from Jonny (which is really weird) and an mms from Patrick. When he opens it and sees Patrick beaming while holding the wrinkled, badly put together drawing of Drogo-Jonny with the caption “you’re still a douchebag” he can’t help but smile.

The bell rings and pulls Brandon out of his haze. He watches the students rush in and he follows Andrew’s movements all the way to his seat. Their eyes lock for a split second. Brandon doesn’t really have time to question what it is exactly that he saw there but it is enough for the switch in his head to just turn. He screams ‘fuck it’ inside his head and fumbles through the papers until he finds Andrew’s. He scribbles down the 10-digit number and 3 little words and puts it in the back of the pile.

He walks through the class handing them out and returns to his desk. He takes a breath before he gathers the courage to lift his eyes. He’s greeted by Andrew’s bewildered and questioning look. He doesn’t falter or blench. The siege is over, his shields are down and the castle is ready for conquering. He holds the gaze and gives back a combination of a shy and hopeful twinkle and a half crooked smile. Andrew answers with a slight nod and a failed attempt of hiding his wide smile behind his palm. 

 

At lunch time, Brandon hums ‘call me maybe’ all the way to the cafeteria.


End file.
